LUNCH IN THE. TE.MPLE. M RS. CRAIG-HIGGS sailed ahead of me off the bus and shouted back, above the din of Fleet Street, "\\That strikes me as too ap- palling is the condition of justice out there, my dyah." "Out where?" I yelled, loping in her wake as she ploughed a path through herds of upstanding British subjects, all of them Plnk-nosed gentlemen wearing tailless black coats, striped trousers, and black hats, and carrying satchels. "Out in the States. Where else?" she barked. "You've got no dignity." "Oh," I said. I love my country, but when it comes to judicial practice, every- body certainly knows that England is very superior, so I felt I must not argue the point. Mrs. Craig- Higgs headed through a passage under the over hanging story of an ancient house. A uniformed facto- tum bowed to her obsequiously and gave me a fishy glare, as though he spotted me as American and privately questioned who was I to pass within this stronghold of the British Law . For we were entering the Temple. We'd left noisy Fleet Street for a quiet lane leading to the deeper quiet of vener- able buildings and quadrangles, a quiet marred only by the clatter of more black-hatted, tailless persons hustling past. Anxious to turn the subject away from An1erican justice, I therefore in- quired, "Who are all those people in the funny clothes, :v1rs. Craig-Higgs?" " B 0 " h O d arnste rs, s e sal . "Oh," I said. Then I said, "Do they have to dress like that, do you think?" "The manner of dress they affect is optional, I believe," she snapped. "You pamper your criminals, reahlly." "1 guess we do," I said, weakly, try- ing to keep my thoughts on the beauties of the Temple-the ancient church, the ivy, the hall where Queen Eliza- beth once dined, the fat, tiny rob- ins on the green grass. Lawyers still ate their meals within these historical walls; in fact, that was why we were here ourselves today. We had come to I unch in the Temple with two bar- rister nieces of Mrs. Craig-Higgs. The occasion was what she called a "special treat," for though barristers have been privileged to invite guests to luncheon in the Temple these three or four hun- dred years, these parties have until re- cently been strictly stag, thanks to a rule that guests must be of the same sex as their barrister hosts, plus the fact that there were no lady barristers in England before 1 922. .It\s we passed a Tudor fountain, with pigeons, Mrs. Craig- Higgs renewed her attack. "I mean to say, you do take such a time getting a conviction, my dyah. Then you set to pampering-oh, hullo there, Basil. Bye-bye." A glassy-eyed young man, whose black hat crowded his pink ears, passed us on the gallop. "My nephew Basil," she said. "He has only just finished eating his dinners and has been called to the bar." "Why is he in such a hurry?" I asked. "I expect he is going to lunch," she said. Eating his dinners? Going to lunch? It seemed a curious confusion of ideas, incredible in Mrs. Craig-Higgs. I didn't like to inquire too far, however, think- ing it perhaps one of those refinements of old English usage, such as their say- o "" f " " h o h h Ing et or ate, w IC are past t e understanding of a New World mind. " y 0" h O d " Th ou grant repneves, s e saI' . e Law should never admit failure, my dyah. It is undignified, reahlly." We passed a wispy old man letting himself out of a shop. "That wigmaker has been making wigs four hundred years," she said. It seemed plausible. "vVigs and robes are essential to Justice. You've got to have dignity. I say, Cyril, dyah boy!" A raw young man flapped a fin and passed in high. "M y cousin Al- fred's boy. We've always been a fam- ily for the Law. Cyril's eating his din- " ners. "And now he is going to lunch? " "Quite." W E were caught in a crush of black hats and striped trousel sand swept into an old building, where two husky blonde girls, in black coats, striped skirts, and tailored panamas, greeted us with "You're late." "We were discussing American jus- tice," apologized Mrs. Craig-Higgs. "Dyah Sybil and Ophelia! How time flies! I haven't been here since you two were eating your dinners!" "Come along," they said. They hur- ried us into a vast room filled with lawyers who were sitting at long tables eating lunch with their hats on. We walked the aisles looking for room for four on the same bench. Nobody noticed us. We were the only women in the room, but the Temple isn't the London subway, with everybody bounding up to give you a seat. Finally, we found a pace almost wide enough, and wedged In. Sybil banged on her plate with her knife for service and Mrs. Craig- Higgs fixed me with an icy eye a;d 51 O d " M saI, ust you crowd so, my dyah?" "It's this man on my left. He's cut- ting up his meat," I said. "Shush, he's a famous divorce coun- sel. Mind the one opposite-a celebrat- ed K.C. Appointment by the King. Carries title. Makes for dignity in the Court." "Which one is he?" I whispered, im- pressed. "The one using his toothpick " "Let's feed. \\1 e've got our soup," said Sybil. "We were saying that American jus- tice lacks dignity," said Mrs. Craig- Higgs. " I ' 0 1 " S b 0 1 O d d t s sen tlmen ta , y I saI, unk- ing bread in the oxtail. "Corrupt," said Ophelia, stretching for the saIto "You'd do well to adopt the English system," Sybil said, spearing more bread with her fork. "Any system would help," said Ophelia, shoving her soup aside and loading cabbage on her fork with her knife. "All needs diggity." Mrs. Craig- Higgs was talking with her mouth full. She swallowed presently, and added, "I saw young Cyril on his way here. Is he still eating his dinners?" I spoke up and asked what it meant, this eating of dinners, knowing I was hetraying a frightful ignorance. My three companions gulped and glared, and Mrs. Craig-Higgs said patiently, l.'Eating his dinners means a youn 0- , b rnan s reading for the bar." "A student of law is required to dine in hall a number of times each term" , said Ophelia. "Just to show he's in London, you see, and not in Paris or New York." I felt pretty muddled. Eating his dinners-is that a dignified way to say a person's studying law? Is it dignified to lunch in your hat? Maybe you can't expect good table manners yet, I reHect- ed, since it's only since 1 919 that wom- en have eaten in the Tem p le but for , , that matter, Sybil and Ophelia and Mrs. Craig-Higgs hardly ennobled this ancient board. 'fhey bolted their apple tart as they went on talking of dignity, of wigs and robes and K.C.'s in silk gowns. Not that it mattered, of course, since we all agree, generally speaking, that English justice is very superior. -FRANCES CRANE . TOWN OF THE WEEK CLUB Intercourse, Pa. Alternates: Adam, Ark.; Eve, Ark.; Hot Coffee, Mo.